Unexpected Wisdom
by Chestnutlass
Summary: Sometimes we learn things about ourselves in unexpected places. A one-shot. Okay I did it again. A two-shot with Booth's POV
1. Brennan's POV

I know intellectually that teeth and bones break down to the same elements. I know that teeth are extremely useful in the identification of the decomposed remains that fill the Jeffersonian. I know that they are an accurate tool for studying how ancient people lives, what they ate, their overall health. I know all these things but in this moment none of that matters, I have decided that I hate teeth.

Evolution is the key to survival, so I can't help but wonder why our teeth have not evolved properly? As our proportions have adjusted and our nourishment values have changed our teeth have struggled to follow suit. Especially the four extra teeth that no longer are required, nor seem to fit properly.

Wisdom teeth. What imbecile came up with that expression? As if advanced neurological tissue needed for higher reasoning skills could exist within a single tooth. Anyone with true intelligence would have the wretched things removed before they presented as a problem, in this I most certainly have NOT shown myself wise.

With a tendency to get absorbed in my work it didn't come to anyone as a shock that I allowed the loathsome things to cause me undo pain for too long. Normally I lecture Booth about the importance of seeking the necessary health-care professionals, but I rationalized that my regular six month intervals were sufficient.

Booth of course found my predicament hysterical. Apparently the fact that my wisdom teeth cause me discomfort, nearly 10 years older than the typical patient, is cause for humor. He of course wanted to know how brilliant I would be if they were allowed to erupt properly. I sincerely hope that he is aware that intelligence has nothing to do with a set of vestigial third molars.

Despite his teasing he has been, as usual, doting and kind. It would have been far more anxiety producing if he had not been by my side. I do not, in actuality, make a very willing patient. Grateful for his company, I feel somewhat comforted by taking my usual spot in his SUV. I can almost pretend that we are headed toward a case instead of the oral surgeon's office. If I was one for fanciful ramblings I might even pretend that the loathsome doctor is the victim, fortunately for him, I am not.

I know that he waited nearly the entire time in the cramped waiting room. He must have snuck out briefly because when he meets me in the recovery suite he has a gorgeous bouquet of daffodils, which I know are not in season. He also filled both my antibiotic and pain prescription, he smirks as I try to see what other treasures are inside the brown paper bag. There are entirely too many narcotics in my system to put up much of a protest as he brushed my hand away from the surprise and sweeps me to my feet. He guides me to the waiting car, steadying me with each step. I take note, as I often do, how well his strong arms seem to fit my frame. I secretly repeat all the bones of the hand, in order to prevent my medicated brain from speaking my thoughts aloud.

Nearly four hours later I wake up in my own bed, I am not entirely sure if I remember the trip, feeling both at once clearer and in intensified pain. Sitting up goes fairly smoothly so I attempt to stand. The room no longer spins, a definite improvement. Wandering down my hall I hear the gruff sounds of a hockey announcer on my newly acquired television. For a moment I am surprised that Booth hasn't left, but with further thought I realize his alpha male qualities would not allow him to abandon someone in a weakened state. Arriving in the living room, he looks up at me and grins. I wonder, not for the first time, if he is aware of how enrapturing his smiles can be.

"Hey there Bones! Feeling better? Do you want a pain pill? Something to eat? Watching something on TV?"

I look at him and simply state "A little, no, not now, I don't want to interrupt your game."

For a moment he looks at me confused, as if processing my answers. "My game, nah, this is ESPN Classic, the Flyers won this game in sudden death back in 1993."

I consider why Booth would want to watch a game to which he already knows the outcome, but decide it is perhaps best to just let it be. "Well what else should we watch?"

The grin is back. "Well at the store I picked you up a present." He tosses me a purple DVD box.

"The Gilmore Girls: Star's Hallow Highlights" I read the title. "Who are these girls and what is a Star's Hallow?"

"Angela recommended it, said it was light and fluffy and would have a ton of pop-culture references you could ask me about." I look at the front doubtfully, these two women are lovely, but I don't anticipate their humor as being enjoyable. I am resigned to his choices. Who am I to question Angela on television shows?

I settle on to the couch beside him. Happy just to feel him close, what images are displayed on the TV is inconsequential.

Seven hours, eight episodes, two doses of antibiotics and nearly a dozen chocolate pudding cups later, we have watched the entirety of the DVD set. I find that my opinion is very much changed, their banter was quite humorous, and I learned quite a bit with Booth's constant explanation. We saw the first episode and the last, and six that we scattered in the middle. It was a delightful way to spend an afternoon, evening and most of the night. I can hardly believe that it is nearly two in the morning.

"So Bones, what did you think?"

"Well I don't think I would have understood most of it without you, but overall I thoroughly enjoyed it."

He laughed, getting those sparkly eyes I adore so much. "I am not surprised, the daughter reminds me very much of someone I know." He gives me a knowing look.

"Really? I can tell by your facial expression that you are referring to me, but I must say, I see very little resemblance aside from some basic physical coloring." I am rather confused that I remind him of an innocent young girl.

"Well not you NOW Bones, but you know, as a kid. She is exactly as I pictured you would be. Feisty, intelligent, quirky, devoted, inquisitive. The spunky, artistic, Asian best friend doesn't hurt the comparison either."

I reflect on his words, recognizing the compliment. But a realization sets in, "you mean it is who I would have been if my parents hadn't left." I didn't mean to get melancholy on him. Sometimes I wish I had an undo button.

His face falls slightly, "No Bones" he said quietly "She's still the girl I see, no matter what happened to her, or where she lived. You are still all those things. I wish you did have your mother, I always wish that for you." He reaches out and pushes a strand of my hair behind my ear, it was a comforting gesture.

"Thanks Booth, I would have liked to think we would have had that kind of relationship. She was great. But I still don't understand the comparison. I think you picked the entirely wrong character."

His face changes from caring to quizzical. "Really, I have the wrong character? Then who, do tell, is most like you?"

"Easy" I reply "I am much more of the mother, than the daughter."

"WHAT!" He is hysterical. I love that his emotions can change in an instant. "You are nothing like Lorelei, she is messy and impulsive, and emotional, and irrational, and well, just not like you!"

"You missed the obvious similarity, the essence of Lorelei. Which we do, absolutely, have in common."

"Well, you stumped me Bones, what makes you exactly like the impractical mother?"

I look at him. Lingering in his chocolate brown eyes. Hoping that he understands my point. "We are the same because of Luke."

Author's Note: I hope that everyone reading this has a basic understanding of the Gilmore Girls, for those that are unfamiliar. Lorelei is the single mother of Rory a teenage girl. Luke was her best friend for nearly all of the series, her constant, her rock, her, well…..Booth. After some on and off they finally get together in the finale.

I wrote this tonight to take a little break from my next chapter of _The Emotion in the Silence_, it was getting a little angsty and was in dire need of a little fluff. I am thinking about doing this like I wrote _Baby Books_. The same story but from Booth's perspective. Thoughts?


	2. Booth's POV

**Author's Note: So I really did think this was a one shot, even though I had tossed around the idea of Booth's POV. I am trying to get my thoughts flowing again for "The Emotion in the Silence" and thought a little fluff would help things along. Besides who doesn't love to watch Booth take care of Bones? :)**

She never admits to being in pain. No matter how bad the hurt, or how scared she is her face rarely lets on. But when it is physical, I can read it all over her. She was in definite pain. I looked her over and try not to let her see me stare as I try to find the source of her discomfort. Nothing seemed injured; she wasn't favoring one side over the other. It didn't seem to be a stomach ache. I had assumed it was a headache, knowing that her intense concentration could occasionally bring them on. Who would have thought the agony was a toothache?

It took nearly three weeks of constant nagging for me to finally get her to a dentist. I think it is hysterical how she will preach at me about going to the doctor, but she herself makes a lousy patient. No matter how many times she tried to explain that she was just too busy with work, I knew that deep down she really hates the dentist. It makes me smile whenever she acts like the rest of us.

Angela finally got her to book an afternoon appointment. I offered to drive her, knowing that she was uncomfortable. Typical Bones wouldn't let me help, insisting she was perfectly capable of going alone. Knowing she would come right back to the lab, I decided to work on some paperwork there, and wait for her. When she arrive I couldn't help but laugh. Wisdom teeth! I had those out when I was 19 years old! I can tell she is upset at my insinuating she was old. I'm forced to lighten the mood with a pathetic joke about being a genius without wisdom teeth. Anything to make her smile.

You could have knocked me over with a feather when she agreed to let me take her to the surgeon. Once again claiming the practical, post-anesthesia she can't drive. I don't point out that she asked me over anyone else, that would just be mean. I can feel her nerves as soon as she enters the SUV. Four years has given me enough insight to know when to keep quiet, so we drive in silence, wishing she would open up to me about her fears.

They escort her back to the surgical suite, leaving me in a very tiny waiting room, I spend an hour or so shifting from leaning against the wall or sitting in small hard blue chairs. The receptionist informs me that she will probably be in surgery at least another hour and another hour in recovery after that. As much as I want to be near if she needs me, another two hours with nothing to do but stew in this room is not going to work. They have my cell number in case there is a problem, I can't help but worry even if it is just dental surgery. The doctor left me her prescriptions, one to prevent infection and one for pain. When we were driving in I noticed a small grocery store and figure I can pick up a few things there. They fill the prescriptions quickly while I pick up a few things for her. Chocolate pudding is always a sick day favorite, especially with a toothache. As I shop I check in with Angela, and she helps me pick out something for us to watch later. The checkout is next to their floral department and my eye catches a bouquet of daffodils, perfect.

When the nurse escorts me back to the recovery room I noticed that her face looks pale. Obviously still under the influence, she smiles when she sees me and the flowers. Knowing she wants nothing more than to just go home, I help her to her feet, and bring her toward the car. She still seems so weak and for a minute I think I should take her back into the office. I take my arm across her back, both to guide her and to feel her close; I can't help but wonder what thoughts are clouding those perfect blue eyes of hers.

She falls asleep on the way home and after pulling into the parking garage I sit silently watching her sleep. Normally her face betrays the fact that her mind it spinning at speeds us mere mortals only dream about but her perfect face now is only quiet and serene. The fact that it is completely peaceful in deep slumber shows me not only another side of her beauty but tells me that she will not awaken any time soon. Silently I open her door and gather her lithe frame in my arms. I try not to dwell on the pure bliss that fills me as I carry to her room. I softly kiss her forehead as I arrange the covers and walk out of her room. Nearly four hours later she finds me sitting on her couch watching a game. As I look at her standing there her eyes softened in with sleep I can't help but grin. I wonder if she knows how positively stunning she is?

"Hey there Bones! Feeling better? Do you want a pain pill? Something to eat? Watching something on TV?" I try to wipe images of a sleepy Bones out of my head with a string of questions.

She looks at me seriously "A little, no, not now, I don't want to interrupt your game."

It takes me a moment to process her answers and realize she was concerned about disturbing me. "My game, nah, this is ESPN Classic, the Flyers won this game in sudden death back in 1993."

I hold my breath hoping she won't make me leave, and instead says "Well what else should we watch?"

I love that she said we. I have just the thing. "Well at the store I picked you up a present." I hand her the box Angela had suggested.

"The Gilmore Girls: Star's Hallow Highlights. Who are these girls and what is a Star's Hallow?"

"Angela recommended it, said it was light and fluffy and would have a ton of pop-culture references you could ask me about." I feel her settle on the couch next to me, and try not to dwell on how perfect sitting there feels.

Seven hours, eight episodes, two doses of antibiotics and nearly a dozen chocolate pudding cups later, we have watched the entirety of the DVD set. She had comfortably asked me questions, which I easily answered and I am happy because she looks happy. We saw the first episode and the last, and six that we scattered in the middle. I can't believe that we watched the entire thing. It is nearly 2 a.m.

I look at her, still waiting for her to make me go home "So Bones, what did you think?"

"Well I don't think I would have understood most of it without you, but overall I thoroughly enjoyed it."

I can't help but laugh. She always seems surprised to have fun. "I am not surprised, the daughter reminds me very much of someone I know." Something about blue eyes being so serious, so young makes me think back to the picture in the FBI file of a 15 year old Bones.

"Really? I can tell by your facial expression that you are referring to me, but I must say, I see very little resemblance aside from some basic physical coloring." That adorable crease has formed in her forehead.

I do NOT want her being insulted by my comparison. "Well not you NOW Bones, but you know, as a kid. She is exactly as I pictured you would be. Feisty, intelligent, quirky, devoted, inquisitive. The spunky, artistic, Asian best friend doesn't hurt the comparison either."

I can feel her attitude change, her voice is quiet "you mean it is who I would have been if my parents hadn't left." How does she have the ability to break my heart?

"No Bones" I say quietly "She's still the girl I see, no matter what happened to her, or where she lived. You are still all those things. I wish you did have your mother, I always wish that for you." I want to be closer to her, to comfort her and find myself playing with the tips of her hair.

She quietly smiles at me again. "Thanks Booth, I would have liked to think we would have had that kind of relationship. She was great. But I still don't understand the comparison. I think you picked the entirely wrong character."

I could not have been more shocked. Who does she think she is? Cranky, rigid, _FRENCH _desk manager Michel? I am in fact a little nervous to ask. "Really, I have the wrong character? Then who, do tell, is most like you?"

"Easy" her voice has a joviality to it that is a rare treat. "I am much more of the mother, than the daughter."

"WHAT!" I can't help but burst out laughing. "You are nothing like Lorelei, she is messy and impulsive, and emotional, and irrational, and well, just not like you!"

"You missed the obvious similarity, the essence of Lorelei. Which we do, absolutely, have in common."

"Well, you stumped me Bones, what makes you exactly like the impractical mother?"

Her crystal blue eyes, meet and hold mine, and my heart drops to my stomach. Nothing could have prepared me for what rolled from her rosebud lips. "We are the same because of Luke."

My mind reels. Am I Luke? She couldn't mean their relationship. Their somewhat difficult but perfect relationship. The fact that they are soul-mates. She couldn't understand that. I have been so careful. Her face gives me all the answers I needed. We are not perfect, this might not be our night, but we would find our happily ever after. She had all but told me so.

Who would have thought that a fun little chick show could be just what the doctor ordered?


End file.
